The Right Road
by Wickedly Caskett
Summary: When their secrets come into the light of day, Beckett and Castle find everything falling down around them. Where will our crime-fighting duo go from the ruins?
1. Chapter 1

This was inspired by a confession and its comments I saw recently, so if you've seen it, that's why this seems to follow its story.

Disclaimer: I'm a broke student, Castle and its characters have no affiliation with me whatsoever.

Author's Note: Whew I have not put anything up here in forever! Anyway, please enjoy~

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><p>It was raining.<p>

It was a pretty typical Manhattan rainy day, depressingly dark, wet, and gloomy. Matched her mood. Well, the depressed part at least.

She had told him last night. Just sort of spilled out, really. Didn't even realize she'd said it until a few moments of stunned silence later. She'd told him she remembered everything. That she'd lied to him, that she'd held this back from him purposefully, just to protect herself. Selfish. So, so selfish looking back. That's what he had said... He'd left her, shaken and broken, in the break room and stormed out of the precinct. She hadn't the strength to go after him. He hadn't come to the precinct today. She had to do something, it… it couldn't end like this.

And now here she was walking into his building, down his hallway, standing in front of his door. She was drenched to the bone, as she seemed to have left the rational part of her brain and her umbrella at her loft. She paused in front of his door, staring at the smooth surface and flashing back to the numerous times she had stood in front of this very door. To share a dinner with his family. To ask for his support when Ralgan had asked her for a talk. For a roof over her head when she had nowhere else to go. To just talk. And now to apologize. Apologize and explain.

She drew a shaky breath and pressed the doorbell.

He opened the door with a warm smile that soon faded when he saw it was her. She found herself unable to meet his eyes, biting her lip as she spoke.

"Can… can we talk for a second?" she said, a horribly desperate tone taking over her voice. Her eyes shifted up to meet his, and what she saw there wasn't the Castle she knew and hell, might as well say it, loved. No, this man was all hurt and anger and closed off, and he had all right to be.

After what felt like an eternity of tense silence he sighed, saying "Come in."

An uncalled for feeling of relief surged through her as she followed him into his loft and into his office. She had no right to be relieved, she wasn't even close to being out of the woods yet.

He shut the office door behind them, ever the gentleman, and walked past her to stand in front of his fake murder board. His icy blue eyes locked onto her hazel ones and she opened her mouth to say… something. She had thought of so many ways of saying what she needed to say, but they were all gone from her mind in that very moment.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, "I'm so… so sorry."

They stood in silence for a few, long heartbeats. Of all the stupid things she could've said…

"I'm sorry. Is that all you're going to say? I'm _sorry_?" he said, advancing on her with every word, "Sorry for lying this whole time because lying was your only escape route? For shutting me out for an entire summer, knowing I… knowing my feelings about you? For giving me no reason not to believe that you blamed me for the shooting as much as I still blame myself?"

"Castle that's not what I meant at all-" she said, shocked. But before she could continue, he raged on with his angry analysis of what she had done, of her.

"Of course it wasn't," he said, a hollow laugh emerging from his throat, "You didn't even think about what I'd think, did you? You were too busy protecting yourself and running away from difficulties to think about what anyone else would feel about thi-"

A loud cellphone ring interrupted him and he whipped around to face his new phone on the desk. He picked it up, looking at the caller ID. It was his mother. Of course. She always had the best timing, didn't she.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice still bitter. He walked past her to take his conversation away from her, shutting the office door once more. She sharply took in a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Her breaths trembled, her whole body did really. What… what was _that_?

She turned to face the darkened screen of his fake murderboard. Some infuriatingly curious (and hopelessly fangirl-esque) part of her desperately wanted to see what the author had planned next for Nikki Heat… especially considering the newest change in the real life Nikki and Rook. He wouldn't be back for a while, considering what that conversation with his mother sounded like… Her curiosity got the best of her in the end.

She picked up the remote from where it lay on top of a large book, pressing the on button. What she saw made her see a whole new, terribly real meaning to the phrase curiosity killed the cat. She stumbled back, slamming into his desk as her hands scrambled to support herself. What she saw was no fictional character's profile, oh no. It was her own face. Shaking, almost not wanting to see, she tapped the screen. It jumped into life before her horrified eyes.

Images flashed before her, each hitting a sour chord in her life, each feeling like a punch to the gut. People, events, cases, names… they all jumped out at her like ghosts come to haunt her from her past. All centered around a question in blazing white. _Who hired the sniper?_

So caught up in the tide of horror unveiled before her she didn't hear the office door open again, didn't hear the muttered cursing, didn't hear him come up next to her until he put a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, tears streaming down her face.

"Beckett, I can explain," he began, but she wasn't having any of it. She bolted past him, out his door and into the elevator. Anywhere but that office, anywhere but near those images, those horrible… horrible…

The elevator doors closed behind her, her arms grabbing around her stomach as if she'd fall apart without their support. Her breaths were labored as the elevator descended. The doors opened again at the lobby and she ran out of the small space.

"Hello Miss Beckett, would you…" began the doorman, but she ran straight past him and into the street. Her tears ran hot and unguarded down her face, mingling with the cold raindrops still falling. She slowed on the sidewalk, chest heaving.

"Beckett!" She heard someone yell behind her, "Kate!"

She felt a hand on her shoulder again, and she whipped around. She found herself face to face with one Richard Castle.

"Why?" she said, her voice choked, "Why?"

"I can explain," he said, his hands grabbing her arms as she tried to run away again, turning her to face him, "I can explain."

"Explain how you went behind my back and went into my mom's case? Something you purposefully kept me away from just so you could swoop in and save the day? So you could play hero and save the damsel in distress?" she spat out bitterly, "Well here's some news, this isn't a damn fairytale, Castle. What this is, this is death. Everyone involved in this case is dead, I think you told me that once. And I swear I can't tell your family- God, Rick, I can't tell Alexis you died because of your so-called heroism. I can't tell your mother…"

"My _heroism_?" he said, voice getting louder, "You think I'm just doing this to play hero?"

"As far as I can tell, yes," she said loudly, "Unless you've lied to me about that as well."

"Look who's calling out the liars!" he yelled, "This says the woman who lied to me for a year, just to save her sorry self from having to deal with emotions. To protect her oh-so-sacred wall from getting broken down by anyone but herself. You'd rather just run away from that wall than try to get over it."

"Yes, so says the guy who would rather I run away so he can crush the wall all by himself!" she yelled back.

"I only did it to protect you," he growled, and she stepped back as if stung, "If you kept digging they'd kill you. I can't let that happen. I can't watch the life drain out of your body, watch your lifeblood spill out through my fingers. I can't see your dad suffer the way he did after he had to watch you get _shot_ in front of his face."

"To protect me?" she yelled, shriller than she had thought it would be, "How could any of this protect me? You think I'd be able to lose you? That it wouldn't kill me to lose you?"

"Of course I know that," he said harshly, "I got this call, okay? I got a call the day you started to get sucked back under. They said if you kept digging, you'd get killed."

Her smoldering eyes swung up to meet his, her voice just as harsh as his when she answered, "And you didn't think to tell me? You hid this from me? Castle, I have the resources to trace the call, to catch the guy, to…"

"I can't lose you, Kate," he said, interrupting her, "I can't lose you to the case, to the Dragon, to an-"

And then her lips were on his.

She had acted on an instinct, on some suppressed longing, suppressed need that she'd beaten down for years. Beaten down to protect herself, to protect him, for incredibly stupid reasons that'd seemed legitimate at the time… But she couldn't fight it, not while she was losing him. After a moment of shock his hands rose up and tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as hers shot around his neck and into his hair needily to pull him closer. A fire, kindled with want and anger and hurt and who knows what else burned in her veins, a fire that only burned higher as the kiss grew more passionate. His tongue brushed against her bottom lip and she opened to him with a small moan. Her mind flashed back to a prior, high-stakes kiss, but that was all dashed away as she sunk into the delicious present.

They broke apart, gasping for air in the pouring rain. Stood there and faced each other in a stunned silence.

"I can't lose you either," she said, lips still burning from the kiss. He was still in shock as he stared at her before something seemed to shift in him.

"Well…" he said, slowly, "How about we first try not to lose each other to hypothermia and get out of the rain?"

Some of that playful Castle lilt had come back into his voice. Oh how she had missed that… She nodded and ran with him back into his building.

The fighting wasn't over, not by a long shot. But they were on their way, and that was the best she could've hoped for.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still broke, still no affiliation with Castle as you can likely tell.

Author's Note: Gosh guys I'm so sorry! Life has gotten in the way so much over the past week. This should not have taken this long... especially considering how short it is. Updates will be quicker in the future, I promise. After I sort out some real life things updates will get a whole lot faster. Thanks for reading~!

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><p>They stumbled into his apartment in a tangle of dripping wet clothes and hair, a blast of cold air sending them into a fit of shivers. Beckett pried off a clinging sweater as Castle mirrored her, pulling off his coat.<p>

"God Castle," she said, attempting to warm her arms up a bit, "How cold do you need to keep it I nhere? It feels like the North Pole. I almost expect a horde of penguins to come sliding down your stairs or something."

"Penguins are South Pole," he sing-songed with a grin as she scowled at him, "And I will have you know that I have a top of the line air conditioner in here, thank you very much. Trust me, it's very nice in the summer when you aren't completely soaked through in rainwater and it's a hundred degrees out."

"Of course," she scoffed, pulling off her boots with some difficulty. She looked up, seeing Castle staring at her. Or rather, at her shirt.

"What?" she said, raising an eyebrow as she followed his gaze. Oh. _Oh_. Why oh why, out of all the things she owned, did she decide to wear a white shirt out in the pouring rain?

"Seriously, Castle?" she said with a glare, "Seriously?"

"Sorry," he said half-heartedly with a small smile.

"Could you at least get me something dry to wear instead of just standing there gaping?" she said, not realizing what the implied meaning behind what she was saying was until she had said it. Basically she had just decided she was staying over for the night… great. Just great.

"As you wish," he said, and she rolled her eyes in response. He disappeared off in the direction of his room and… his office, and his murderboard, and the destruction of her trust and… no. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. He had pushed it away for right now, so could she. For the time being. But… she couldn't help but think how much bigger his betrayal was. Not that she was justified in keeping her secret from him but his….. no. Push it aside. She turned away from the door to his office. Away from sight, away from mind. She shivered as another wave of cold air washed over her. How long was he going to take in there?

"Beckett, you okay?" he said worriedly, walking up next to her with a bundle in his hands. She blinked and turned to face him.

"Yeah… just cold," she said. He shot her a look that rang with the discordant echoes of their all too fresh fight, and handed her the clothing in his hands. She took it with a small smile.

"You can change in my bathroom," he said, "It's got the softest towels. Just got new ones. Ultra-soft."

"Thanks, I will," she said, turning and heading off in the direction of his bedroom. In the office she veered as far away from the murderboard as physically possible. She did note that he had covered it over with a heavy cloth and that the remote was nowhere in sight though. They wouldn't be able to bury it forever. It was still constantly in the back of her mind, including now. The fact that he had tried to do something… it did make her inner lovestruck teenager smile. She walked through his room and into his spacious bathroom.

She leaned against the door, shutting it as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. The past day or so really had not gone as expected. And that kiss not even half an hour ago… what was she thinking? That was the problem. She hadn't been thinking. She hadn't been thinking and look what happened. Stupid things that shouldn't have happened yet, not with her so broken, had happened, and there was no turning back. No running away. Not without hurting him even more than she already had, and she just couldn't do that. Another blast of frigid air blew over her and reminded her of her purpose. She sighed, shucking her drenched shirt over her head and pulling off her socks and jeans. She grabbed a dark blue towel from the nearby rack, smiling at the softness. It really was a very soft towel, as Castle had taken so much pride in. She dried off the infernally cold rainwater from her body and wringed out her hair, wishing she had a hairtie. It couldn't be worse than when her hair dried after being in Hudson river water, but honestly… this would be a lion's mane by the time it dried.

She picked up the clothes Castle had fetched her and felt a weird pang of nostalgia hit her. Looking at it again, she smiled. It was the same shirt Castle had lent her when her apartment had gotten blown up and everything she owned either smelt of smoke or bombs. She looked at it a moment longer before pulling the warm shirt over her head, followed by the sweatpants he had given her. An overwhelming smell of Castle surrounded her as she settled into the warm new clothes. It made her feel safe, bizarrely enough. Or maybe not so bizarrely. Honestly, they had been through so much together, an innumerable amount of near-death experiences… perhaps it wasn't so odd that his scent made her feel safe. Safer than she had felt in a while. Still made her feel safe, even after all the hell they had been through in the past day.

She peeked at herself in his massive mirror, cringing a bit at the mess she saw staring back at her. What a mess. Makeup stains and tear stains still dripped down her face, her hair was drying (and frizzing), and her eyes were dull and tired from the earlier argument. She scrubbed the makeup stains off as best she could and left his bathroom.

…what was that smell?

Whatever it was, it smelled delicious.

She followed the scent out of his office and into the main area of the house, spotting a dry (when did he change?) Richard Castle cooking. She sauntered up to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he looked up.

"Hey," he said, smiling.

"Hey," she said, "What are you making?"

"Only the finest meal for any rain-drowned person," he said, "The self-proclaimed best pasta carbonara in the world, made by yours truly. And made with only the best and freshest ingredients from the famed country of the loft's refrigerator, of course."

She smiled at his description, "Must you prose-ify everything?"

"It's my nature," he said, blue eyes sparkling, "And you know you love it."

She pursed her lips at him, "Anyway. Is there any way I can help?"

"Stay there and keep looking cute," he said, a wolfish grin blooming on his face as she leveled a glare at him.

"Oh come on Castle," she said, circling around the counter to stand next to him, "You know I'm good in the kitchen. Won't burn the house down, and neither will I poison you with a… oh, what did she call it… a s'morelette?"

His head shot up from stirring the pasta, "What has Alexis told you? And those were _delicious_. Alexis was just too in love with Ashley to think straight at the time. She's been telling you stories? She's been keeping that information from me…"

He was kidding around, but the talk of lying and secrets hit a little close to home right now. She must've showed some sort of reaction, as his face turned serious. Hers clouded over a bit as the harsher moments of the night came back into focus.

"Kate… we can save this discussion until later. About what happened… what we both said. We can wait until we eat," he said, his earnest gaze masking a level of betrayal and apologies and hurt and a multitude of emotions under its painfully warm depths. As if to disperse the tension and seriousness, he added, "And that way, I won't burn the house down by talking while cooking, and my stomach won't eat a hole in itself."

She didn't deserve him.

She didn't. Not this broken, not with how she had acted, not with how he had… as she was trying to come to understand… protected her, even at the possibility that her trust in him would be shattered. At the thought of his secret her blood burned again. She took a deep breath, trying to beat the hurt down and focus on the now. Right now? Her stomach was protesting the lack of food she'd had all day. Maybe had a coffee and a bagel throughout the day. She had felt fine at the precinct, but now her body was realizing how she kind of hadn't eaten since that morning…

Oh she hadn't answered him yet, had she. And it had been quite a long time too…

"Sure," she said, pushing back the sudden wave of hurt in her to look at his face before pushing his worried expression back too, "Let's eat."


End file.
